America's Reading Books Again.

Fuck.

“I thought about reading a poem by Shakespeare, but then I thought, why should I? He never reads any of mine.” Spike Milligan

I realize there’s a pandemic, and God knows we’re all looking for distractions, but America reading again? That’s got to be wrong.

I cry foul as I always do when a new Pew study comes out. Supposedly, book sales are up 9 percent over the past two years.

It’s not surprising since we’ve been locked up, and bored, and we can’t count on Netflix coming out with anything new.

But the idea of Americans picking up books — that makes about as much sense as them taking up hockey, which they have, but not seriously like Canadians. We never shut up about it until months after the finals.

Which brings up the biggest question of all. What exactly are Americans reading?

God help us if it’s history.

What if they learn that the war in Ukraine is right out of Hitler’s playbook — or Ivan the Terrible’s, for that matter?

You know how much Americans hate reruns.

And what about geography? Imagine Texans finding out that the Ukraine is only slightly smaller than their own state? Great gawd, nothing’s the size of Texas. Except Russia, of course. Not that you can trust commies to tell the truth. For all we know, Russia is only the size of Minnesota.

Reading is a gamble with any American.

Imagine if Americans learn just how seriously fucked up the world is today. What if they discover America has done things in Iraq, Syria, Afghanistan that were just as bad as anything Putin’s doing now?

Or how about the fact that NATO has never actually done anything to stop Russia in the past? Everyone but the UN janitors knew Putin wouldn’t stop at the Crimea. His plan was always to annex the Donbas so Russia would have a corridor to the Sea of Azov and warm water ports.

Of course, none of this received serious coverage back in 2014, so you can’t blame Americans for not having an accurate account.

That’s just the way politics is played.

Congressmen and senators figured we were too busy swiping left and right on our smartphones, or watching Game of Thrones for the third time, ’cause it was just so darn good.

Next thing you know, Crimea is a Russian state.

Then this pandemic came along.

Who knew some fish market in Wuhan was hatching a disease that would lay us up for two years, forcing us to watch renovation shows, or Hallmark series, most of which monkeys could’ve come up with better dialogue — if not better characterizations.

There was news coverage, of course, and medical warnings, and global outrage, but world events tend to overwhelm Americans, and usually that’s when they read the least.

As one woman explained on Reddit’s Ask Women, “I love to read but my depression has made it harder and harder to concentrate on novels this year and it’s bumming me out. I can cope with graphic novels, which has been good, but it takes a lot of effort for me to read Cormac McCarthy.”

I tend to agree with her. Reading McCarthy’s “The Road” while Putin’s threatening nuclear strikes is like browsing through “Carrie” just before the high school prom. That’s going to bum anybody out.

We’d all be better off reading “Harry Potter,” wizardry being what it is, and our own tenuous grasp on fantasy and reality being what it is.

Even Putin got into the fantasy act.

Putin figured the invasion of Ukraine (described as a military exercise) would be over in a couple of weeks. We thought it would be over by the last season of Ozark. Two months later, we’re all disappointed and slightly confused.

The war continues, the pandemic continues, hell, Roe vs. Wade continues.

Here’s my concern—and it’s keeping me up nights.

If America is back reading again, think what it could mean to social media. We could be facing meme reviews of Wuthering Heights instead of The Matrix Resurrections.

Do we really need Ruby, from Rattlesnake Falls, telling us Heathcliff is a bit of a prick, and Catherine needed to call it a day?

I admit I could be reading too much into this. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing having Americans reading books again (even if it’s Ruby). And it’s possible this isn’t necessarily a new phenomenon, as much as a slowly growing one.

If we go back to earlier Pew and Nielsen studies, 571 million paperback books were sold in the U.S. in 2015 (Nielsen).

Go back to 2013, and you see a dramatic rise of over 20 percent.

Now, some things have happened in that time— good things, actually.

A couple of very bright women, J.K. Rowling and Harper Lee (now deceased), put out books the buying public had to have in physical form.

Lee’s Go Set A Watchman, sold four times as many hard copies as e-books, and Rowling’s Harry Potter series — well, you don’t want to go there. Let’s just say her hardcover sales are way beyond e-readers.

Interesting tidbit: Kids are the ones asking their parents for hardcover copies.

Given time—and perhaps a trend towards real awareness—America’s next generations could be bookworms with a penchant for Emily Bronte—or possibly Shakespeare (as long as it’s the graphic novel version).

I still want to cry foul, since I tend to cry foul a lot.

From what I know of Americans (and I know many), they aren’t born and bred for literary pursuit — not like say, Britain or India — or even China, for that matter.

These countries read way more books than Americans.

So I’m holding back judgment until I see if Noam Chomsky isn’t reading one million of these books and Donald Trump is only reading back covers.

As for the rest of America, let’s just hope Ruby, from Rattlesnake Falls, doesn’t start reading The Decameron, or The Kardashians discover Sun Tzu.

Things could get pretty weird if that happens.

I mean, really weird.

Robert Cormack is a blogger and author of “You Can Lead A Horse to Water (But You Can’t Make It Scuba Dive).”